Final Chance
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [AE] Near had been wrong about one thing. Light wasn't dead by the time they stumbled upon his body, and all because of a little loophole (or a little sympathy, perhaps) on Ryuk's part.
1. Final Moments

**A/N:** Written for the 100 Prompts, up to 100 MCs challenge - #95 – miniscule, and for the Diversity Writing Challenge, m17 – alternate ending.

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 **Final Chance  
** _Chapter 1 – Final Moments_

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 **0.**

He was trapped.

A fine state for the god of the new world to end up with, but as he half ran, half crawled from his defeat, he realised he'd never been a god in the first place, and he'd known that.

A god wouldn't have stuck so close after the world was his.

A god would have hidden in essential non-existence. A god wouldn't have minded if the world could prove who he was, what he was – because a god was absolute.

And a god wasn't afraid of going to jail because there was no jail to hold a god.

And, in any case, how could a god be wrong? And he'd obviously gone wrong.

He'd still wondered, sometimes, about those first two men he'd killed. When he'd dipped his feet into blood and wondered if he'd gone too far or if the decision to keep going after that had tipped him over the edge. Less over the years, but the thought was there, and more prominent in the final moments where everything just fell apart.

It was like a cup that shattered in front of him and he saw each and every piece: how it was, how it should have been.

And when he fell, gasping for air and staring at the sky with steps digging into his spine, he was still seeing those things. The Death Note. Ryuk. Misa. Higuchi. Takada. Mikami. Near.

…and L.

 **.**

 **1.**

Light Yagami was halfway up the stairs to nowhere and unconscious, but still days away from death…except for the Death Note Ryuk had opened to a fresh page. But he hadn't taken out his pen. He hadn't written the name.

The thing about rules was that they had loopholes. And he could skip through two of those holes at once if he wanted to.

He was fairly sure he could, anyhow. And if he lost that little bet, all it would cost him was all the apples in the world –

Actually, that wasn't a great trade-off, now that he thought about it. Maybe he'd been hanging around Light too long. Always did things the logical way, planning each step meticulously until it all fell apart. But Light was interesting. The most interesting human he'd ever watched and he wasn't quite ready to give him up.

And what would he gain from writing his name, except the end of the agreement he'd formed and a few days to add to his boring tale? He wouldn't need apples once he was dust – if not writing a name counted as an act of love and who knew? Such circumstances barely arose. Then again, a human hadn't ever hold onto a Death Note for five, or used it on such a grand scale. And awareness of the Death Notes hadn't spread so far before.

That fact made it even less likely another Kira would easily dig their grappling hooks into the world.

So…why not? He was looking at an eternity of boredom once Light was gone, so why not prolong it?

He tucked both the book and pen away.

He'll see what Light Yagami made of his final moments.

 **.**

 **2.**

His God had gone. Fled the scene like a martyr or a failed, bleeding man.

For some reason, it hadn't quite clicked that he'd failed. God simply couldn't fail. God was perfect. God was supposed to be perfect.

The fallacy was, of course, that Light Yagami was no God. And, deep down, Mikami understood that. Understood when his help was required because what sort of God required help in the first place? But Gods required servitude, did they not? The evidence was there in almost all religions that had sprung up from the earth from olden times. Gods required servitude – or longed for it, as the embellishment of their pride.

If Light Yagami could turn his back and run, then he had lost his pride.

He wondered if it was his own pride that kept him rooted to the spot. Or a deep-seeded despair that crushed his soul in its grip – because despite knowing, deep down, that a human could never be a God, he'd longed for it. He'd seen a miracle no-one else could create…

And he'd also seen it crumble to little drops of blood leading a trail to a dying man who wasn't God.

 **.**

 **3.**

It startled them, a little, in the end. Even if all the facts had been thrown at them again and again. But did that make them fools? They didn't think so. It made them the sort of men who were more prey to their emotions than the hard cold facts of the world.

And that was fine, because L had been like that too, Light had been like that too, Soichiro had been like that too – and they respected Soichiro the most of the three of them. A man who was willing to slash his own lifespan in half to save his daughter. A man who was willing to shoot his son to prove an innocence he soundly believed in – had believed in until the moment he died.

And was it sympathy or part of the plan to prove an innocence that didn't exist? They pleaded sympathy, still. Despite what they witnessed. They were too close to think so callously and, in a way, they didn't wish to either. It was too simple, to say people were good or bad, evil or not, criminals or not. That sort of thinking had brought about Kira while the law had leniencies embedded in it.

But Kira was not the law. L was not the law. Near was not the law.

And as they found Light Yagami lying on the steps, they wondered what was going to happen now: in the endgame of two forces above and beyond the law they'd dedicated their lives to upholding and protecting.

Because the endgame had not ended – or it had gone into overtime. Either way, Light Yagami was still alive and, in that aspect at least, Near was wrong.

 **.**

 **4.**

Matsuda didn't go with the rest of his team. If indeed it would be his team for much longer. He'd broken one of their moral rules, after all. Shooting an unarmed man due to anger and anger alone – and he regretted it now, not just because of how he'd lost control but because of who it was. Not that they were going to throw him out because of that. He'd messed up before. They'd all messed up before. Ide had walked away entirely…and they were all that was left of the original team.

But, he thought as he looked at the trail of blood and the hysterical Mikami, something had broken somewhere. The fact that, after all that, Light _had_ turned out to be Kira… had broken something. He didn't want to do this anymore. Spend years chasing something that had turned out to be so close. Too close. Spend years chasing someone who should have been as close as a brother to him…

He didn't want to do that anymore.

But that was what they expected. Chase the bad guys: the criminals. Never mind their own fallacies that had led to their creation, or the immoral things they did in the process. It was the fact that he wouldn't get punished for shooting like he did that struck him more than the slight possibility that he would. Near didn't seem concerned at all. Seemed relieved, almost. Thinking Light would be dead before Aizawa and the others caught up to him. And he might be. If not by those gunshot wounds, then by Ryuk and the Death Note he carried.

But… somewhere inside, Matsuda hoped that wouldn't be the case. And it wasn't just that the Yagami family would be devastated if he did. And it didn't matter that Light Yagami was a dead man anyway. He still didn't want him to die – or be the one who killed him. Despite all those shots.

 **.**

 **5.**

All they felt was relief. They'd taken a big gamble and it had paid off.

Or…maybe the gamble wasn't so big. They had Near on their side after all. That lessened the risk, because Near was one of the greatest minds in the world. Like L.

But it had been the second L, Kira, who'd been their opponent. And that had raised the risk all over again.

But that didn't matter now. They'd won. And it wasn't their arch nemesis that they should feel exuberant about that victory. Yes, Kira was a threat that was now neutralised…or would be, as soon as Light Yagami's dead body was dragged back. But they weren't the heroes who'd be heralded for accomplishing that, or the ones who'd truly won. That was Near: the gamemaster, the white king. And the rest of them were pawns. Cleverly placed pawns, and pawns that survived the game, but pawns nonetheless.

Even Kira had pawns that had still survived the game. The third Kira, distraught. The second Kira, still free but Near believed she was no threat anymore and they believed him, because that was the risk they had taken. The only risk they had taken: to throw their lot with Near and his attempt to defeat Kira. And Near had pulled that victory off.

 **.**

 **6.**

Kira had fled in disgrace. The game was over. L had lost. Kira had lost. Mello had become the sacrificial queen to give him the final, necessary piece. And Near had won.

He was about ninety percent sure Light Yagami would be dead before long. Not from those gunshot wounds – and he would have admired Touta Matsuda's restraint if it wasn't so foolish in his field – but from Ryuk and the Death Note he still held. Because they'd come to understand each of the Shinigami that had brought a Death Note to their world. And they knew Ryuk had no loyalty to anyone or anything except apples. And they knew Ryuk would sacrifice nothing for Light Yagami.

And the game was over. There was no merit in overtime when nothing could be accomplished from it. Surely, Ryuk would write his human's name in the Death Note and that would be the end of this wretched tale.

And the end of another competition as well. A competition between three boys at Wammy's House – and only one of them still lived. The third L.

'Near!'

He looked up. Why call him now? The story was over, and he deserved a glass of milk and a rubix cube before a new one.

Then he blinked. Aizawa was hailing him. And Ide and Mogi were carrying a pale Light Yagami between them.

Mikami stared at them, then dropped his head and mumbled unintelligibly.

Drops of blood were still falling from the bullet wounds. The chest was still rising and falling.

Light Yagami was still alive.

He'd been wrong.


	2. Final Silence

**Final Chance  
** _Chapter 2 – Final Silence_

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 **0.**

He wasn't sure what he expected the nothingness of death to be like, but he was disappointed. There was a faint smell of antiseptic in the air, like the hospital room his father had spent his final moments in, and even before that when he's suffered a heart attack completely unrelated to Kira (and how terrifying would that thought have been, if he hadn't been Kira and perfectly aware of the truth).

And if it was the afterlife's way of paying him back, a hospital room was a pretty poor way to do it. There were guiltier circumstances than that. Guiltier than orchestrating the death of his own father – because, by then, the die had been cast for too long and he was in too deep. He was Macbeth in a sense, wasn't he? Macbeth who'd missed the danger he was in because he'd taken care of everything else. L could have defeated him, perhaps, but he'd underestimated Near and Near did best him in the end.

But this, this aftermath…what was it?

Ryuk told him there was no Heaven and Hell, only nothingness. Only Mu. Why then did nothingness smell like a hospital room? Was that his senses, unable to grasp the idea of non-existence and filling in the gaps? And why, again, a hospital room? Aside from his father twice, it also reminded him of…

That was right. The time he'd shed his memories of Kira to hide and regroup, when he'd truly believed himself to be the innocent college boy. Lying in an infirmary bed after he'd finally convinced L he was wrong – and it wasn't until some months later that he'd been able to truly gloat about that victory.

But if those thoughts were the result of that smell – and was that a monotone beeping in the distance as well? – then it was his own heart's fault. He didn't quite believe in the existence of a soul.

Was this the regret he'd buried so deep he'd entirely forgotten about?

 **.**

 **1.**

Hmmph. Unconscious. Or sleeping. Not quite in a coma but from what he'd gleaned from the mumbo-jumbo of those white coats, it was still a possibility. Boring, all in all, and Ryuk can only hope that things speed up in the next couple of days or else he'd be ditching the scene.

Unless Near could be persuaded to use the Death Note for his own means. That might be fun. Except Near wasn't even giving him apples, just a suspicious frown before he was entirely ignored.

His guards were no more entertaining. All Near's men. Still didn't trust the Japanese police by the looks of things, even with Light no longer running the show from behind the scenes.

Maybe he should go peek in on Misa in the interim.

But Light had made her give up her Death Note. That mightn't be fun at all.

Then again, Misa had cut her life into a quarter of what Rem had given to her. And that was five years ago. A human lived anywhere from less than zero years up till over a hundred (and stealing life from those over a hundreds was always the most rewarding, even if they were oh so rare). He could peak at her numbers, anyway. Hang around if she was about to bite the bucket.

And drop in on Light in the meantime, because his plots usually meant he was stuck playing the waiting game for long stretches of time. So he could give that much, at least.

 **.**

 **2.**

His cell was a miserable place, and ironically, he'd seen the outside of it many times before, in his role as a persecutor. He didn't think it well deserved though. He'd followed his God and this was the end result?

But he knew his God was no God. He knew, deep down, but he'd believed and followed anyway. That was religion, he thought despairingly, believing in the unprovable (and, in this case, disproved) and in the unseen. And why not? To most of the world, Shinigami like Ryuk were unseen and therefore non-existent beings. Who was to say the one who'd made them visible to him was not a God?

But he could argue with himself about such things for as long as he liked, and it wouldn't change the end result. Kira had failed, whether he was the God or the demon against him or just a human who'd tried to wield too much power. He had failed as well, and in the end, who's fault was it all? Near and his SPK for being so desperate to catch Kira? L for dying and breaking the faux pas? Light himself for not being as fallible as he'd appeared? Mikami for being the one to slip up and leave the paper trail that had eventually caught them out?

Well, he had an undetermined amount of time to stew on those thoughts of his. His God – Kira – was asleep, and they were waking for him to wake up or die.

Whether Gods could die or not was debatable, but even so, Light Yagami was no God.

And yet…he'd been the devout follower without pause.

 **.**

 **3.**

Only written tales had a defined end. The true story went on, and here was a prime example of that. The bad guy was caught. The good guys had one. They'd even crossed beyond the realm of a checkmate and yet it wasn't over. Wasn't over because the Death Notes existed still, because Kira had been immortalised through five years of media retellings and who knew how long it would take to kill that ghost?

Not to mention the First Kira, Light Yagami, was unconscious in a closely guarded infirmary bed.

They couldn't afford a hospital. Kira may have a contingency plan that extended even that far – though he doubted it, with the display of panic in the warehouse. Or else word of his capture and true identity could get out, and devout followers would seek to free their God. Or Misa Amane could still be wrapped in the throes of Kira. They doubted it, based on the current surveillance. She seemed to be pining for Light without a thought of Kira. But that was a problem too. Misa would do anything for Light.

Though that was a question too. What made Light cut her off? Lack of usefulness, probably, but the timing was off. Misa hadn't been useful as the second Kira for four years, and the end of Kiyomi's usefulness had ended in her death within a matter of minutes.

He refused to believe it was love. Light Yagami had orchestrated the kidnapping of his little sister and the death of his father, after all. And he was a detective. Love was a fickle, abstract concept: even less likely to exist than the Shinigami that defied reason.

 **.**

 **4.**

Matsuda begged off on guard duty, but it turned out to not matter, since Near didn't trust anyone except for the SPK to do it.

That was fine with him, since he couldn't have done it either way. The others muttered amongst themselves but he tuned it out. He'd been too young, too naïve, and too close to the Yagamis.

His fingers, for the umpteenth time, played with his badge.

Why couldn't he have been one of those officers who had walked away from the investigation five years ago? Walked away and gone on with their lives and their jobs, fighting ordinary crime that could sometimes be as psychologically gruelling as this one, but at least didn't involve supernatural Shinigami and the greatest detective in the world.

But he wouldn't have been able to face Chief Yagami if he had. Not that it mattered, now. Couldn't face him anyway, after shooting his son almost to death. Couldn't face much of anyone after all those horrific reveals…

Poor Soichiro. Lucky Soichiro. He'd died without knowing the truth and what a cruel truth it turned out to be.

And part of him just couldn't quite grasp how one human being had played them so perfectly. Even if that human being was Light Yagami.

 **.**

 **5.**

The Kira case was out of their hands now, and they were both relieved and disgruntled. Relieved because it was over, because the truth had come out and five long years later, demons and dead comrades alike were laid to rest and that was the end of it. But disgruntled too because they'd spent five years fighting literally in the demon's den and they wouldn't be graced with the ending.

But then Near – or his messenger – told them he would allow them to witness the ending, if there was one. True tales didn't always have them, and if Light Yagami died without answering any questions that still remained, then that would be their open-ended conclusion.

And it was a foregone conclusion, Kira's – or Light Yagami's – execution. The only thing still up in the air was the timing.

So they waited. They all had to wait. Questions thrown out in anger were one thing, but there were other questions too. Questions that would write out the entire tale, from start to end. That would explain all the things they hadn't been able to put together, and all the things Near worked out but hadn't told them.

And, in the meantime, there were other things to do. Crime was low, but it existed. Five years hadn't allowed Kira to succeed, if it was ever possible.

 **.**

 **6.**

And so they were all doomed to weight. Kira – Light Yagami – in his slumber, and the rest in the waking world. They took their turns: watching the motionless figure on the infirmary bed, watching the model who anxiously waited for news that would never come, watching the people on the streets whisper of Kira, and others taking a small step forward, surviving it, and walking faster than before.

Kira had been slow to pick it up, but not the criminals. Maybe it was some sixth sense that allowed them to pick up when those around them died, or didn't. A false sense of security slid over them quickly – or maybe it wasn't so false. After all, Kira couldn't kill them now. And in a few months, the statistics would show it. Crime was back on the rise. Kira was dead, and now they simply waited for his body to be nailed to the castle walls on display.


	3. Final Meeting

**Final Chance  
** _Chapter 3 – Final Meetings_

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 **0.**

He woke up to a familiar ceiling, and it didn't take him long to place it. His bedroom might have taken longer, which how little time he'd dwindled away giving it a fixated stare. His apartment might be more familiar, when worried tumbled into one another and kept him awake at night, kept him awake when things had, eventually and finally, began to slip out of his control in a manner that he was painfully aware of.

Because he'd never been in control, not really. And in retrospect it was easy to see. When success wasn't intoxicating him in its scent. When his dreams of grandeur didn't seem suddenly and foolishly possible. Fool's hope and that had made him careless, but was it carelessness? He was painfully human, in the end.

When had he forgotten he was human?

But he was. And now he was in an infirmary that was essentially a hospital and he wondered who'd brought him in because this was L's infirmary, L's reluctant apology when he'd proved him wrong, with the thirteen day rule and no more memories so unconscious actions could incriminate him no matter how well he covered his tracks - but L had still smelt a rat. Or maybe that was L's desire, his determination, to be right. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered in the least what the truth of the matter was. Maybe it hadn't even been about what the truth was, in the end, but who'd be able to prove the side of the debate they stood on.

He'd done that. He'd won. As for L's second that he sent in - they'd never had their relationship. Was that simply underestimating Near, thinking he'd never catch him, not with such fewer resources and with Light himself on top of the shadowed world - or was there a flaw from the beginning that had finally been unearthed?

Oh, he would love to say it was Mikami, all Mikami. He'd thought that too, as he'd stumbled away, limping and full of holes thanks to Matsuda - Matsuda who was so naive but so sharp and so earnest what his father's disappointment would never have been (and couldn't he admit, when there was no-one to hear in his mind, that a part of him had wanted his father to die believing in him and he'd known the truth would never do that). The same part of him who didn't want to sacrifice Sayu as a pawn, even if he'd had to play more of his hand than he'd have liked to in order to save her. The same part of him that kept a promise to a being that was long since dead in order to spare a lovesick girl from a loveless relationship.

After using her for five long years - what made him, he reflected, cut her loose then of all times? His father and Sayu he could explain away - Sayu had never been part of the plan, and he'd planned for Matsuda to play his father's role before his father had cut in. And they were family. Blood he'd never planned to spill.

Friends were another story. Who could he even call a friend? Who did he care enough about to keep them locked away and safe? Not Misa. Misa annoyed him. Misa he'd sent away, and he could claim it was because she was so well known: in the world, and in the Kira case as well. Killing her would have opened up a can of worms so he sent her out of the way instead. Easy to say but hadn't it been ignorance on his part that had let her in in the first place? A hole far in the past he could have - and should have - plugged. And whatever had first led L to his doorstep. Whatever cemented him as a suspect: whatever meant that even when L was dead, his successors were hunting him like bloodhounds, was another hole that should have been plugged early on. And now as he stared at the ceiling and reflected, he could see many of those holes littering his tenure. Further and further back and where was the beginning of it all?

 **.**

 **1.**

The apartment had been taped off when Ryuk arrived, but of course, human limitations meant nothing to him except an annoyance when it interfered with his fun. Particularly with his ability to eat apples and why couldn't he just find a market and eat all those apples instead. But there were complicated laws that meant someone had to give him an apple before he could enjoy his fill of it and no-one seemed to want to give him enough to keep him satisfied.

And the things he did for what apples he could scrimmage up in return. But who'd give him apples now? There was the Kira Task Force, or the SPK, but what did he have to offer him in return? What did he even want to offer him in return? Light had promised a show but so far he hadn't seen it. Then again, Light had promised a show and then discarded his memories and he'd gotten a show after the slow build-up of it. Even with no-one to give him apples in the interim.

But he wasn't looking for apples right then. He was looking for Misa. A Misa who could no longer see him, no longer give him apples, but could still give him an interesting show in the pause before the finale…or was it just half-time? It didn't really matter. Time meandered for him anyway, unless he was running short on years and he wasn't. In the midst of Kira's reign, a few names here and there had effectively slipped under the radar.

The outliers might have stood out a little more of Light had been more judicious in his use of the Death Note. Or any of the people in this particular era who'd gotten hold of it. Might've been interesting – but also oh so slow. Even if time didn't matter all that much to him, the concept of slowness was still frustrating.

He left the apartment. There were no clues there, so next were other places she'd been known to haunt. But none of them yielded anything and she no longer possessed a Death Note so that method of finding her was out as well.

Then he stumbled upon her, finally. Or, rather, her broken doll body. And he laughed because there were no numbers to see. Shinigami didn't see negatives because what was the point of negative numbers? Humans did that instead, tried to calculate exactly when a person died and probably got it wrong because they had numerous measures of death but not one of them was as exact as the timer of their internal clock hitting zero.

It was a shame he'd missed the sight of Amane Misa's clock winding down. It was a beautiful sight. The most beautiful sight for a human.

Then again, there were ones like Gelus and Rem who thought it was the most unbearable sight in the world when it came to a specific human. Lucky Amane Misa who'd had two Shinigami fall in love with her and give their lives for her. An open book, Rem had been about it. Enough for Light to exploit her.

Yagami Light on the other hand was never an open book, but desperation showed and it was an ugly look. It had been very tempting to call this the end of the tale – but who knew. Light had done some pretty unbelievable stuff.

He drifted back towards the infirmary of the old headquarters – and anyway, it would be ironic of Kira was put to death in the same place he'd killed the mighty L…and Rem the Shinigami.

 **.**

 **2.**

Someone stood at the door. Framed in the black shadow of the endless hallway. Heretic! Police. The two words were the same and yet so different, and they both applied to the man. The man who hadn't devoted himself to God, despite the position God had given him. Aizawa. Aizawa Shuiichi.

His fingers itched for the Death Note, but he no longer had it, nor any scrap on his person. He'd never had any scrap on his person. Hadn't known that was possible and yet it was. Must have been because God had one in his watch.

Not God. Yagami Light. The name slipped in and out as though caught in a whirlpool – a whirlpool of thoughts. He knew Yagami Light was a human: infallible and stumbling and bleeding and abandoning him in that warehouse while he made his own escape, and yet his thoughts were entirely consumed by him still. Where was he now.

There was someone there. He could ask. He should ask. 'Where is God?'

'The Shinigami?' The man snorted. 'No idea. He comes and goes as he pleases.' And then there was an uncomfortable sound, 'Or did you mean Light? I can't tell you that.'

And yet he could speak God's name so casually. No, why did it matter how someone else spoke his name. Except it did matter. Such casualness, such familiarity.

Yes, in that man's eyes as well. And yet he turned on God – on Light – so easily. God abandoned him so easily. God wasn't a God so easily. How quickly the world fell.

Well, it was a rotten world, wasn't it? He laughed, in his head and then aloud and, visibly uncomfortable, the chief of police backed away.

 **.**

 **3.**

Yagami Light was awake. His watchers had let him now and yet he dawdled. Part of him was disappointed. After all, this was the man – or boy, rather – who'd killed the first L, who'd succeeded where countless criminals had failed.

This was the man who proved L was human, and now he was finally caught and in the palm of his hand.

And it wasn't just that. Wammy, Mello, Matt… And how many others. People connected to him. People not. Kira's complacency had played a large role in his victory. Kira who thought he could dance in the light and the shadows and not slip on oil somewhere.

It also, however, proved that Kira was a human too – and that it shouldn't have taken so many resources, so much time, so many lives, in order to catch him.

And Kira had the audacity to prove him wrong once again. A minor thing, surviving, since he'd be put to death soon enough in any case. But he'd been sure the bored Shinigami would have seen the endgame for what it was and taken his leave of the human realm.

How troublesome the Shinigami were. Perhaps he could lay the conundrum of Kira entirely on them, since Yagami Light would have been nothing without the Death Note…except that wasn't quite true either. Others had crossed paths with the Death Note since the Shinigami Ryuk had first dropped it in the human world. None had orchestrated such a despicably fine show as Yagami Light.

And now Yagami Light was defeated. What next?

'Yagami Light is awake,' Stephen repeated.

Near continued stacking his blocks. 'He is quite audacious, isn't he.'

Stephen didn't answer. He didn't expect him to. 'Anthony is guarding him.'

'That's fine,' Near said. 'Yagami Light should already know he's lost.'

Was he being overly complacent? He didn't think so. Yagami Light: a human without any pages of the Death Note and with no weapons at his disposal and no audience to listen to his words, was simply a bullet-riddled body for the moment.

Near was almost disappointed, now. That this was Kira: the puzzle that had claimed so much. He should have just disappeared gracefully, the sporty loser in their long match.

 **.**

 **4.**

Light was awake. The message spread like a rippling effect, in part because it was the prelude to the end. But aside from that, it was his failure – or was it? He hadn't shot to kill. He'd just…shot. After that first shot anyway, the shot that had saved their lives but was also plain, undeniable proof of the truth.

Light was Kira. Light had been Kira after all. After all that… All that…

Sayu. Soichiro. The whole Task Force, how they'd pleaded his innocence to L time and time again and he'd been guilty all along. And L, to die that horribly, to have been right after all and get nothing but death for it…

It was too horrible for words, really. Him dying would have at least meant the tale was done. Even in that way. Even if he had to live with every senseless shot he'd fired.

And now what. Light had survived – what was it? Four, five shots? All except the first one poor. And for what? Execution? To plead a case no-one could bear to hear.

Would he answer, if he asked again?

He found himself there before he could quite decide. There was nothing for it then. _Ask the question._ 'How could you kill your own father?'

Light's eyes rolled towards him. 'Matsuda.' And then he laughed bitterly. 'It was meant to be you, you know. Always you.'

Funnily, he was almost happy to hear that. Better him than Soichiro. Better someone he'd thought was a friend than his own father. And he had plenty of time to feel the sting of betrayal. Right now, another question, before he ran out of there with fire in his chest or bile in his throat.

'And Sayu?'

Light's lips twisted. 'What do you want? Tears and me wailing how I'd never wanted my family involved? Or meaningless apologies? I can lie here and think of all the different ways I could have done things and none of it matters now.' He pressed on without waiting for a reply. 'Whether I regret being Kira or not… No, I don't. This world is still rotten, but at least I've cleaned it up somewhat…'

And that was true but wasn't true and Matsuda did allow himself to flee because he'd gained almost no answers – and yet the two most important answers at all.

He didn't know how much longer he could stand this.

 **.**

 **5.**

Mikami Teru was in a cell. Yagami Light was in the infirmary under SPK surveillance. Soon, they'd both disappear and the last five years would fade into a bad dream.

And yet it had cost them so much. Aizawa sat in the seat of the chief and he didn't know if he deserved it. He didn't feel as though he deserved it. And then there were all the empty seats. The people who'd dropped out because of the Kira investigation. The people who'd died because of it. and Matsuda, who was who knew where and he'd been the person closest to the Yagamis so maybe that was no surprise.

Aizawa wondered if he'd be seeing Matsuda's badge on his desk soon. And it was a shame.

Never thought Matsuda's open personality would be a thing to be so grateful for, let alone twice over.

 **.**

 **6.**

And so the prelude to the end begun. Actions dawdled. Thoughts rushed so fast they swung back like a pendulum. But soon the wait would be over, and the execution would play out.

After all, dawdle too long and the window of opportunity could slam shut and not one of them would risk it.

But for Yagami Light and Mikami Teru… where was their window, on the losing side of this checkmate?


	4. Final Words

**Final Chance  
** _Chapter 4– Final Words_

 **.**

 **0.**

Ryuk drifted in, through the ceiling because it didn't matter there was a door. Anthony Carter turned a wary eye to him, but Light barely reacted at all.

They both had a question to ask. The real question, though, was who of them would be the first to crack. Neither were bred for real patience: humans and Shinigami and animals as well… But Ryuk was the one who'd dropped the Death Note onto earth because he was bored. Yagami Light had been perfectly willing to meander away until the tool had fallen into his lap.

And so Ryuk cracked first. 'You going to show me that glorious end you promised?'

Light snorted. 'I recall putting a condition on that, Ryuk. Which you ignored.'

Ryuk shrugged. 'Be glad. I was about to write your name instead.'

Light stiffened minutely, and then relaxed. Of course, he remembered their first meeting, all those years back. The vow they'd exchanged then – when it had been far too late to make an educated decision, since the contract had been signed by that first name.

Whatever was that first name, anyway? He didn't even remember. He doubted Ryuk cared to flip through the Death Note to tell him, either, and Light didn't care to ask in any case.

And there was an open question, still. He wondered how to answer it. After all, he didn't know where he was going either. Where he _could_ go.

Or, on the contrary, he knew exactly where he was going without either a time machine or pity he didn't deserve.

And it would be extremely distasteful to receive pity from Near, of all people.

'Did you ever develop an interest in chess?' he asked.

'That boring game?' Ryuk snorted. 'And considering we've been playing every card game known to man and thensome for millennia, that's saying something.'

Of course. He'd expected that. And had no intention of arguing the merits of chess. Except this one. 'Then you can't appreciate that a checkmate can occur well before the final move.'

'Really?' Ryuk asked. 'The great Kira is out of options?' He chucked.

But, of course, the great Kira was human, however much he'd tried to be a God.

He was powerless without the Death Note, save a mind in a locked room. But words could still be barbs – even if he didn't care to use them as such.

He could see the board perfectly clearly, after all. And the board spelt his imminent defeat. He had no more pieces left. No more moves. Maybe if he'd had a Rem or Gelus – but no, he had Ryuk who cared more about apples and interesting light shows than the humans that made it possible.

And a Shinigami like Ryuk could start again. Drop the Note another day, watch another human pick it up, reap whatever he won with those odds and lose only a supply of apples once the fun ran out.

He could only escape the knowledge of his failure and that crippling despair, and was it even worth it to try?

Then again, he had nothing to lose at this point, either.

 **.**

 **1.**

He was disappointed – but there was something interesting about it all, anyway. He'd gotten to see many different faces of Yagami Light, after all. And here was the last: utter defeat. That was a thing with chess. He knew enough to know that. there were only so many pieces. Just like there was only so many cards, except you couldn't see the whole deck at once in any card game.

You could always see the chessboard and its spread, if you were looking.

And now Yagami Light was in checkmate. It wasn't necessarily the end of Kira. He'd garnered quite a following, after all. If someone – or him, bored again – dropped another Death Note, there was a non-negligible chance that a supporter would pick it up. Though that wouldn't be nearly as interesting, if they weren't like Light. After all, how many other people had held Death Notes? How many of them had been unmasked in a blitz show?

Light was a serial. A serial that had nonetheless reached its end.

And all he had to do was look above his head at numbers no human would be able to see.

But where was the fun in that? Yagami Light was a dead man regardless.

But he was curious to know how Nate Rivers would make the final move.

And there was another loose end to tie up anyway.

 **.**

 **2.**

A different police officer this time. Asking questions he didn't really care to answer, and a few he couldn't. The muddle in his head remained, persisted like a bad migraine and there were no magic pills to make it all better.

Was there even an afterlife, he wondered?

Eventually, the officer grew frustrated and left with what little useful words he'd garnered. And the cell grew quiet again. And more thoughts. Really, it was a wonder people survived in prison at all, if this was the consequence of a day or few. It was a wonder he'd had a job. It was a wonder all the criminals that were caught didn't just die in prison, leaving the rest free to clean up the world.

Dirty, dirty, world and wasn't he just an ink-stained pebble on road in it?

And then there was another shadow. 'Any farewell speech for me?'

Ryuk. Twisted face. Sharp grin.

Should he be frightened or relieved? 'The world really is twisted, isn't it?'

Ryuk shrugged. 'No, not really,' he said, 'then again. We Shinigami don't think much of all your human morals.'

Not that humans thought much of them either. The state of the world was the proof. The number of people Kira had needed to purge from the world was the proof. Not that it had worked. Maybe, if L had left him alone. Maybe, if L hadn't been a persistent string of bratty orphans who couldn't leave well enough alone. Maybe if Kira had really been a god, instead of a human as fallible as everybody else.

Maybe…if Kira had worked with people instead of simply used them as pawns in a game he'd wound up losing, because he'd played alone.

Would he have been a good player though? After all, his one and only move had been the one that tied the knot of the noose.

 **.**

 **3.**

Near continued playing with his blocks. Part of him wanted something more stimulating, but the rest relished the mind-numbing repetition. The last move was his and he was procrastinating on it. Really, all he had to do was submit his proof and the Kira case was closed. Submit the proof, make sure Kira paid for his crimes and his name was dragged so thoroughly though the mud, his supporters wouldn't surge up in retaliation, and make sure that the Death Notes were all destroyed – though that wouldn't stop a Shinigami from dropping them again.

In that case, someone would just catch them. No-one could hide forever, least of all a murderer with blood on their hands. There were far too many bloodhounds to sniff them out, and now he was on the top of them. Sure, there was some bureaucratic cleaning up to do, but there was an age for that. Until the next interesting case, where he could immerse himself: body and soul.

In any case, this was his first major case and first major victory.

He hadn't expected the end to be so reluctant. But even then, it was impossible to dawdle forever. His opponent was too dangerous. He'd escaped confinement once – though now they knew his method of doing so and wouldn't fall for the same trick again.

It would be just like a sore loser to pull it a second time, though. The illusion of executing the innocent while the guilty escaped.

And dawdling only increased the chances of the backdrop shifting in this show of the finale.

 **.**

 **4.**

Poor Yagami Sayu, who stared at everything, beautiful or dull or entirely horrifying, with blank eyes. Like the bearer of the news of her father's death, not even a month after she'd been released. And now, about Light's incarceration – though he lied. He had to lie. Sachiko who didn't know the horrors buried in her family. And Sayu who should never have been involved.

That was all the consolidation that Mastuda had received, that Light had never intended to trap them. Maybe that was his love for his family. Maybe it was just necessity.

And Misa had loved him enough to throw herself from Tokyo Tower soon after his incarceration. Because the timing was too close to be a coincidence. Because Ryuk cackled out the tale – a tale they could have put together anyway, with the knowledge they'd amassed.

The Shinigami eyes, cutting the lifespan of the one who accepts them in half every time one takes them. And Misa took them twice. Her lifespan would have been cut by a quarter. Then again, her life had been saved twice by Shinigami as well. How did the math balance out there? The second time had been after she'd made the Shinigami deal, hadn't it? But the first one hadn't. Without that Gelus, she'd have died near the beginning of Kira's reign. She'd gotten five extra years and fallen in love – despite the kind of love it had turned out to be.

It was twisted. So twisted.

He didn't want to know how twisted the world was anymore. He'd find another job, he decided. Something quieter. Something tucked into a corner of the world where he could hang a light-bulb in every corner and ignore the shadows. Or maybe he could be a cleaner. Clean up the filth of the world in a very different way to Kira.

Or maybe a housekeeper, because the Yagamis had been so firmly encroached into his heart and mind, and he didn't think he could stop himself from seeing them, no matter how much more it hurt as the baggage piled up.

Just as he probably wouldn't be able to stop himself showing up at the police station to make coffee for those few friends left, even after he'd have handed in his badge and gun.

 **.**

 **5.**

In the end, it wasn't even two days. Matsuda handed in his badge and gun without much of a speech following, and Aizawa let him go. After all, what else was he supposed to do? It was a pity though. He'd grown to respect the man and he'd always liked him: the clumsy police officer that could always break a heavy mood but was a brilliant shot when it counted –

And had managed to save all their lives from Kira and who else could claim that? Near would've been dead without him and then Near's whole plan would have fallen apart as well. Everyone'd under-estimated Matsuda, time and time again. And he'd dealt the most crushing blow to Kira – because Kira could've written a name on that scrap of paper, or two. And he'd been holding the Death Note. He'd have been next, and then the rest of them would've dropped like flies and the slate would've been clean.

He wondered, now, why Light had bothered with the farce of keeping them all to begin with. Why Light had bothered catching criminals and putting them in jail while he wrote the names of so many others into the Death Note and manipulated them to their deaths. But there were lots of questions like that. Why keep Misa around when she was hardly as useful as the other Kiras that had shown up over the years and grated his nerves at every turn. He'd talked about breaking up with her often, but he'd never did it. Why not?

Maybe it'd been pity. Maybe he'd seen what it would do to her, like they'd seen far too late. Or maybe there was another reason, a reason only Light new – and maybe Near, while the rest of them could only scamper around in the dark and use whatever information they'd been told.

They'd been way out of their league with this one. The whole entire way. And how horribly it had come down.

No wonder Matsuda had wanted out. But he – Aizawa – had a different seat to fill.

And then Matsuda turned up with coffee, and Aizawa couldn't help but be relieved. 'Can I expect coffee tomorrow?'

'Most days,' Matsuda shrugged. 'Unless I've got something better to do.'

He could deal with that, as far as Matsuda went anyway. The rest of the mess…well, he'd see, the next case around.

 **.**

 **6.**

And so, the final words were said. For some of them, it would be the last time they'd meet or talk to each other. For others, it would be the last time they talked about these events – or talked at all. Endings came in many shapes and sizes and they were within the end now. The next move would be checkmate and the other pieces, whose roles had already ended, walked off the board.


	5. Final Thoughts

**Final Chance  
** _Chapter 5– Final Thoughts_

 **.**

 **0.**

Near had finally come.

Or maybe it hadn't been that long. Surely not long enough to solve this locked room puzzle he faced. Though a part of him was tired and didn't _want_ to solve that puzzle. Too many holes. Too many things he couldn't go back and fix. It was annoying. Regrets he could do nothing about and the world he strove to make would have only been more imperfect for it all.

The longer he went, the more damage done by each and every one of those mistakes and he still hadn't found the first of them.

And dying with all this noise in his head sounded very…unpleasant.

He wondered when he'd come to terms with dying at all. Maybe when he'd truly realised there was no way out, and what was left was to decide what little part of the board he did still control. Remembering the Death Note, or forgetting it. And his tongue, so long as his heart was still beating.

And the bitter smile that stretched across his lips. 'Finally hear to gloat? Part of me suspected you earlier.'

'Did you know?' said Near monotonously. 'I would consider myself pleased for defying your expectation, except it seems I haven't.'

'No, not particularly. Then again, what victor doesn't gloat? Not that victory's gotten you much.'

'Pity,' Near agreed. 'Since I can define a victory with your death, but you…would it have ended when every man, woman and child in the world was dead, including yourself?'

Light laughed. 'Who knows.' He'd certainly never thought that far and he never would. There were too many people. Too many types of people. People so straight and honest and infuriating but far from being a criminal like Matsuda. Criminals he could almost respect (and wouldn't a good son and brother hate him?) like Mello. 'You strategy needs to be malleable enough to deal with the opposition.'

'Not just opposition,' countered Near. 'Or have you forgotten Mello?'

'I have not forgotten Mello.' His face darkened a little as he said so. 'I have also not forgotten L, if that was your next question.'

'Perhaps.' It didn't matter anymore. It no longer was. 'But all of this is a waste of time, isn't it?'

'Tying loose ends that can't be tied. Undoubtedly.' And then Light grinned, just a little. 'You're not the sort that'll work yourself into the ground solving every case you can get your hands on. You'll cherry-pick the interesting ones. Let others be hurt by leaving the rest open. That's the luxury you'll have now. The luxury of inertia that follows a game's end, right?'

Near's lips twisted. Right. He understood. Understood the undercurrent pinning that little speech as well.

Ryuk didn't. but he saw those lips twist.

 _Here's the rest of your show, Ryuk._

He was going to be dead in the next minute – and he was too tired to mind. Maybe once he'd rested a bit…but no, there wouldn't be that time.

'I give up.' _Take your victory. Take your Death Note._

His mind spun and the only clear words in it in those last fourty seconds weren't his own.

A voice he knew but no longer recognised: 'A coward to the end, Yagami Light.'

And a voice he couldn't hear at all: 'Not much fireworks in that finale.'

 **.**

 **1.**

And it was done. Over. A pity, but it'd been interesting enough in the end, even without the fireworks he craved. Light was like that, after all. Full of subtleties that he usually didn't have the patience for.

But he'd stayed five years with him. That meant something.

Not enough to let him get away from this contract though. And so he wrote the name. Did Light lose his memories in those last fourty seconds? He didn't really know. It wasn't necessarily a conscious thing for Shinigamis, when human ownership of a Death Note changed. And did it really matter? Not even the great Kira could pick himself up in the fourty minutes it took for him to die this time for real. The answer would never be known –

And yet it frustrated Near. Frustrated him more than that banter they'd traded before.

'Ryuk,' he said evenly, after a pause in the silence after he'd yanked the ECG leads out to silence their monotonous shriek. 'Did he lose his memories?'

'Beats me,' shrugged Ryuk. 'I can see people's lifespans, not their minds.'

'Hmm… I suppose not.'

And he turned to face him fully. 'Are you leaving? Now that no-one owns a Death Note in this world?'

Ryuk laughed. 'You're sure about that, aren't you? Another bored Shinigami will drop theirs soon enough, but in the meantime, yes. I've had enough fun to last me a while.'

Near said nothing more; he simply watched the Shinigami vanish through the wall.

 **.**

 **2.**

The next time they checked Mikami Teru's cell, he was dead. Dead since last night, by the looks of him. Not that they'd had any hope of getting useful information out of him.

And now Yagami Light was dead as well. Two deaths to cover up. Two families to inform – and without mentioning they were criminals, Kira and a devoted and half-blind puppet of Kira.

The Japanese Task Force was, of course, left to clean up that mess. Now with the final move played (and the only person who knew the details of that was Near and all he said was that it was done and Yagami Light was dead), the SPK would head back to England and that would be the end of them unless a new case attracted them.

And, Near said, he'd be taking the title of L as well, so that would be the end of that matter as well. Now it was just two dead bodies to explain in a way that wouldn't give their families unnecessary trouble and pain – because it was all over now, and they didn't need to prolong the aftermath more than circumstances forced them to.

And then it was time to get back to their jobs – or move onto other careers like Matsuda had.

Even if he had brought them coffee that morning.

 **.**

 **3.**

Near packed up his blocks. They hardly needed packing but it was something to do, and playing with something or other was always his fall-back.

And he was working off his frustrations, in his own way, as well.

He'd known Yagami Light would throw something, even when he had barely anything to throw. He couldn't stand losing – and that wasn't too different from from L, or Mello, or he himself. Pity, that they couldn't have fought on less brutal grounds: grounds like Wammy house that had been the stage of his and Mello's countless fights before L's death had ended them.

It still annoyed him. Mello hadn't gone out like that. Mello would have refused to go out like that. Admitting his defeat, for one thing. Wiping all memory of it so he died with the illusion of innocence… if that was indeed the case. Probably wasn't. What was less than fourty seconds of innocence going to get someone – and that was assuming the numbers didn't tick into negatives. It gave Light nothing except a brief satisfaction before the fact. And it irked Near.

He was sure though, that if it had been one of the Japanese Task Force, they'd had felt much more. Too close, all of them. He saw them scrambling, trying to think of what to say for Yagami Sachiko, and giving Yagami Light a burial he didn't deserve – but that was their prerogative. Maybe he would've done the same if there'd been a body to recover in Mello's case. Or maybe he wouldn't have. He couldn't exactly call himself normal. None of them could. And neither could Kira. And that was how they'd fought on that board as equals. The Japanese Task Force had just been pawns that were moved along the board by people with less idealistic intentions.

But that was the reality of the world, and he'd learned it along time ago.

So he grumbled silently to himself until the case of Yagami Light would fade into the memory of time and a more stimulating future case – and there would be one. No human was perfect. He'd find a challenge one day that would be his greatest and most horrible and his executioner just as L did, just as Yagami Light did, and in the meantime he would do whatever struck his fancy when he, eventually and inevitably, grew bored.

 **.**

 **4.**

It was a strange feeling, walking away from the Police Department after leaving a cup of coffee on Aizawa's desk and a taking few tear drops on his t-shirt in return.

It was a strange feeling to see someone so happy to see him, too, but he was glad. He mattered. And that just made him want to keep these remaining bonds all the more.

It was also a strange feeling to see Mogi following him while sipping on the coffee he'd made for him. He slowed his stride when he noticed anyway, and Mogi gave him a small smile. 'You heading for Sayo-chan?'

'Yeah,' Matsuda sighed. He was still debating on whether to sign up as their housekeeper or not. For now at least, when the world had shrunken down and he wanted it even smaller. Where he couldn't bare the colours and complications and twists and turns of the great big wide world. 'Sachiko-san could use some help around the new house – and someone needs to keep an eye on those two.' He thumbed his forehead. 'Never mind it's running away and all that…'

'I don't think it is,' Mogi said, seriously. 'You're trying to find a new place in this world, but you admitted to yourself that this place wasn't for you and you faced that. Didn't lock yourself up like moulding bread until it's tossed aside.'

Matsuda snorted at that. 'Did you lot take bets on seeing how long I lasted?'

'We did,' Mogi admitted, abashed. 'You exceeded all of them. Except the Chief – ah, Chief Yagami, I mean. He said you'd surprise us. And you did. Not to mention saved our necks…and brought us coffee at the end of it.'

Matsuda laughed a little. 'Yeah, the coffee does seem to be my major contribution to this team.' And he preferred that to the alternative, now.

 **.**

 **5.**

Mogi and Matsuda went together. Aizawa watched them struggle back into routine from his new vantage point. The coffee cup sat drying, with only dregs remaining. Matsuda's coffee had always been nicer than most (what with all the times they'd sent him to the machine, he'd become intimately familiar with it) but it was the familiarity that was the warmest, now.

The Chief's desk and chair were still unfamiliar, and would be for a while yet. Mogi and Ide stumbling over his name in the professional setting would be as well, but for the rest of the precinct, they took the change just as well as they'd taken Chief Yagami's ascent. He was the man they reported to, the man they looked to orders, and it didn't really matter who the face behind the name really was. And that would be the new familiar, with time.

Going through more cases than he'd previously had clearance to was new as well, and the new norm. Cases that seemed tame in comparison to Kira, but what they'd done in between and always.

It would take a while. But it would happen. Finally.

 **.**

 **6.**

And so, after the final move came the aftermath. People brought together on the board now drifted away as the game and its mementos were packed up. Time continued to flow as it had always done, and they flowed their separate ways as well. Some stayed tangled together.

Some drifted apart. Some faded completely, into the dusty attic boxes that may never be opened up again but would always be there: the reminders of a long, long, tale.

* * *

 **Post A/N:** And that's the end. Originally planned it to be six chapters, but Ryuk wrote Light's name one chapter early and so the final chapter merged into this one. As for the conclusion to the Light vs. Near fight, the idea had always been to prove Light's guilt, as oppose to finding out who Kira was. That was the goal of the Task Force in general, but L had been sure since early on that Light was Kira and so the game between them (using the term game somewhat arbitrarily) wasn't so much as stopping Kira as proving his identity. So the game was already over in the warehouse, regardless of whether Light managed to write Near's name on the Death Note, regardless of if Matsuda's shot had missed, and regardless of whether Light had died before this story began. Prolonging the inevitable may have opened a new window of opportunity if it'd been long enough, but since the story takes place over only a couple of days and with no tools at his disposal, Light had no means I could reasonably think of to escape his fate. Forgetting would not forgive him, not when others knew the truth now. That was just a mix of him wanting some peace at the end of it all, and wanting to throw a barb at Near – but whether he forgot or not? No idea. Didn't think it mattered (for him anyway) in the fourty seconds afterwards it took for him to die.


End file.
